


Life and Death

by look_turtles



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M, NC-17 and canon typical violence in later chapters, multi-chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-15 06:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2218821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/look_turtles/pseuds/look_turtles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Harold have dinner together</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dinner

John was lounging in The Library. They had saved a number and John was taking a well deserved break.

He liked to think of himself as a man of simple pleasures. A well oiled gun and a break every once in awhile were all he really needed and he had a closet full of well oiled guns and even a rocket launcher. 

Apparently a break consisted of him was leaning back in a desk chair. He closed his eyes and listened to Finch type on a keyboard. The click of keys was strangely soothing. He could just picture Finch's look of focus as he stared at the computer screen. He would never admit it to anyone, but he pictured Finch more than he probably should.

'Would you like to share a holiday dinner with me?' Finch asked John and it took John a moment to process what his boss was saying. Finch was by his own admission a very private person and while they did go to the movies to together, he had never thought Finch would ask him to dinner.

John opened his eyes and looked at Finch. Finch was staring at him, his brow was furrowed and his tongue came out to wet his lips. He reached up and removed his glasses and cleaned them with his pocket square.

'Sure. What's the occasion?' John asked as he continued to look at Finch. Finch put his glasses back on and turned back to his computer.

'No occasion, as such. I just thought you might like to share a holiday dinner with me... As friends,' Harold added and if John didn't know better he would have thought Harold sounded disappointed.

'Of course I'll have dinner with you. Should I bring a gift?' John tried to keep the excitement out of his voice, but failed miserly. He was excited about seeing where Finch lived, but more than that he just wanted to spend time with him. 

'If you like.' 

Two weeks later, John was finally on his way to have dinner at Harold's house. They had had to put off their dinner because of a seemingly never ending string of numbers. Tonight however The Machine had been quiet. 

He stepped out of his car and stepped onto a ordinary snow covered sidewalk. Snow was falling fast, large, wet flakes stuck to everything. Even though the snow on the sidewalk was covering his shoes and sticking to his pant legs, he barely noticed. This was the first time he had been invited to Harold's house and he wanted to take it all in. 

As he adjusted the brightly wrapped packages under his arm he noticed that Harold's house was perfectly ordinary. Part of him had been expecting Harold to live in a tall, glass and steel tower full of birds and computers, but he had to admit that the small house suited Harold.

The house was square and made of red brick. There were no decorations on the outside, but behind a large window candles flickered. Snow was piled high on the sidewalk, but a wide path leading from the front yard to the door was dug through the snow in the front yard.

John walked up a set of stone steps and knocked on Harold's door. He suddenly felt butterflies in his stomach; perhaps Harold wouldn't like his holiday gifts. He couldn't remember the last time he had shopped for someone, but Harold had given John a job and a purpose and he deserved more than anything John could buy, but damn if John hadn't tried. 

Harold opened the door and he smiled wide when he saw John. John smiled back and him and noticed that Harold was wearing a light grey t-shirt; the collar was frayed and the fabric looked worn and soft. John had to stop himself from touching it, but then he had had plenty of practice ignoring his feelings where Finch was concerned. 

'You came. I was beginning to think you wouldn't.'

'I wouldn't miss it. I just had to do some last minute shopping and the roads are getting bad.'

A cold breeze blew snow flakes around John's feet and whipped against his long, dark coat.

'Please come in out of the cold,' Harold said as he stepped aside.

John walked in and sat his packages down on a dark wooden end table. As he kicked off his shoes, Bear came up to him and nosed and pawed the packages.

'Hey, you'll have to wait to open your gift,' John said with a smile as he reached down and ruffled Bear's fur.

He took off his gloves and flexed his stiff fingers. Even though he had just walked from his car to the house his hands were cold. The removed his coat and hung it up. Picking up his packages followed Harold to the living-room. 

The room had rich brown walls and John felt a dark, plush carpet under his feet. A tall, curving floor lamp filled the room with a yellow glow.

He sat down on a dark leather couch and Bear jumped onto his lap.

'Is it okay that Bear's on the furniture?' John asked.

'Of course. I would never keep you and Bear apart.'

'Really?'

'Of course. I made something to eat if you're hungry.'

John's stomach grumbled. 'I'd love something. What did you make?'

'I bought a small turkey and mashed some potatoes.'

'Lead the way.'

Bear jumped off John's lap and John followed Harold to the kitchen. The smell of a roast turkey fill the small kitchen and made John's mouth water.

'Need some help?' John asked as Harold sat a bowl of potatoes on a table.

'Could you take the turkey out?'

John open the oven and warm air hit his face. He lifted a turkey in a pan out of the oven and sat on a long, wooden dining table. He loaded up his plate with turkey and mashed potatoes as Harold did the same.

As John tasted the potatoes he had to stifle groan. The potatoes were buttery and Harold had left some of the skins on. He didn't even need to put more butter on them.

'I take it you like the potatoes?' Harold asked as he took a bite of turkey.

'Oh yeah! Did you use an old family recipe?'

Harold rolled his eyes. 'Hardly. I googled it.'

'Ah. You should google recipes more often. If you can do this with potatoes I can't wait to see what you with chocolate cake.'

Harold smiled. 'I'll keep that in mind.'

They then ate in silence. The silence should have made John uncomfortable, but it wasn't. Every so often he would 'accidentally' drop turkey for Bear.

After they were finished they moved to Harold's living room. They sat down on opposite ends of the couch. 

'I hope you don't mind, but I brought you and Bear some gifts.'

'Of course I don't mind. In fact I bought you something as well.'

Harold got up and sat I large rectangular package on John's lap. He ripped through wrapping paper and took a gun out of a box. It was an AR-15 and John didn't use the word beautiful often, but damn if it wasn't beautiful. The gun was black and John could tell it was finely crafted.

'It's great! Thank you, Harold!' John exclaimed as he ran his hand over gun metal.

'You're very welcome. I thought you would appreciate something useful.'

'You know me too well. I'm sure I'll get a lot use out of it.' John said as he sat one package on Harold's lap.

Harold carefully removed the paper and lifted up his gift, a book. Harold opened the book and carefully turned the pages. His eyes went wide.

'You bought me a first edition of Birds of America by Audubon?'

'Yeah. Do you like it?' John suddenly felt self conscious. He could stare down gun toting bad guys, but apparently Harold made him nervous.

'It's very nice, but I can't believe you were able to find me a first edition.'

John shrugged. 'You can find anything online for the right price.'

'Of course. I believe this particular edition sells for $110,000. There is just one thing missing,' Harold said as he looked up at John. There was something in his eyes that John couldn't name.

'What's that?' 

'An inscription from you.' 

'Wouldn't that ruin it?' 

'Not at all,' Harold said as he pushed the book to John and handed him a pen.

John opened the book and looked at down at the title page. Even though the book was old it had been well cared for and the page was pristine. He knew exactly what he would write. The pen slid across the paper and his words covered the page.

He handed the book back to Harold. Harold looked down and Bear barked.

He wrote: To a good friend and a great boss who gave me a job and purpose.

'Thank you for such kind words.' Harold said after he read the words.

'You deserve it. Now I should give Bear his gift.'

John picked up a small package and opened it to reveal a bright yellow squeaky toy. John couldn't tell if it was suppose to be a duck or a rabbit, but it didn't seem to matter to Bear who ran after it when John threw it. 

'Well, I guess I should get going,' John said, even though part of him wanted to stay in Harold's warm house instead of going out into the cold.

Harold got up and walked over to the window. 'Oh, dear. It looks like a storm has gotten worse. Perhaps it would be prudent if you stayed the night.'

John wasn't going to argue. 'Okay. What should we do?'

Harold turned around and hobbled over to a bookcase and picked up a wooden box. 'Do you like chess?'

Half an hour later, John was sitting on the floor in front of a chessboard. A glass half filled with ruby coloured wine sat next to it. When Finch had offered to open a bottle of wine, John couldn't say no. 

John moved his pawn. As Harold moved his queen, John took a sip of wine and let the sweet liquid sit on his tongue. 

'Checkmate,' Harold said as he toppled John's king.

John let out a yawn. 

'Shall we turn in?' Harold asked as he put the chess pieces back in their box.

'Sounds good to me. I'll take your couch.'

'I have a guest room with a bed that is more than comfortable.'

John stood up and his back cracked. 'Lead the way.'

John followed Harold down down a long hallway. They stopped in front of a door.

Maybe it was wine or the fact that John was warm and happy, but before he could stop himself he kissed Harold on the cheek.

When he backed away Harold's eyes were wide and John was desperately trying to come up with an excuse, he was going to blame the wine.

Harold reached up and touched where John's lips had been.

'John? Please tell me that kiss was real.'

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'You want it to be?' 

'Absolutely. I had always hoped it would happen I just never thought it would.'

'I see. Would you like me to kiss you again?'

'Please.

John moved forward and gently touch Harold cheek, the skin was soft under his fingers. He brushed their lips together.

As John deepened the kiss, Harold's hands came up an kneaded John's shoulders. They stayed like that for several long moments and then they broke the kiss.

John pulled Harold into a hug and rested his chin on Harold's shoulder. The sent of cool cologne surround him. He ran his fingers against Harold's side and the t-shirt was just as soft as it looked.

'Would you like to sleep with me?' Harold asked.

'Do you mean sleep as in sleep or sleep as in sex? Both sound good right now,' John said as he kissed the top of Harold's head.

'Oh, dear. I was thinking about sleep, but I wouldn't be against amorous activities later.'

'Sounds good, let's go.'

They released themselves from the hug and walked across the hallway to the bedroom. Harold turned on a light and the room was flooded with light. The walls were pale blue and the floor was hardwood. Book cases lined the walls, but what John was most interested in was the big bed that stood in the middle of the room. 

It was a wooden four post bed covered in the colourful quilt that looked handmade and several lumpy pillows sat against a carved wooden headboard.

'Do you need something to sleep in?' Harold asked as he moved to a closet.

'Do you have anything that would fit? If not I don't mind sleeping in my underwear... or I could just sleep naked,' John added just to see Harold's reaction.

Harold's eyes went wide and his cheeks turned red. 'I... Um... I mean to say... I think I may have something that fits.'

Harold handed him a shirt and silk pajama bottoms.

John unbuttoned his shirt and watched as Harold's gaze followed his hands down his chest. Once he unbuttoned his pants and got into his clothes he walked over to Harold a reached for Harold's glasses.

'Need some help getting ready for bed?' John asked.

'Oh I think I could use some assistance,' Harold said with a coy smile.

John removed Harold's glasses and sat them down on an end-table. He then reached for the hem of Harold's shirt and lifted it over Harold's head. He took a moment to admire Harold's chest; pale skin was covered with dark hair and Harold's nipples were pink. It took all of John's willpower not to kiss and lick those nipples, Harold wanted to sleep.

Once John had gotten his fill of looking he removed Harold's pants and noticed that Harold's pale legs were clad in red silk boxers.

John let himself touch Harold's thigh. 'Do you want to put something on?' 

'Of course.' Harold said as he moved to his closet and brought out a pair of pajamas. Harold covered up his skin with green silk.

They walked over to the bed and laid down. It took several moments of moving around until they were both comfortable. John was laying on his back, his head resting on soft pillows and Harold was on his side using John's chest as a pillow. John lifted his arm and ran his hand over Harold's back, the silk was soft and smooth.

As John fell asleep he thought things couldn't get any better.


	2. Good Morning, John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John, Harold and Bear spend the day together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NC-17 for this chapter

John slowly opened his eyes and felt a weight on his chest. It took him a moment for his sleep addled brain to realise that it was Harold. As he remembered what happened last night he grinned. He rubbed Harold's back and kissed his head. He was so warm. 

He wanted to stay wrapped in Harold's embrace, but he knew that all too soon the world would intrude and they would have to go to work and Harold would change to Finch as easily as John changed into the man in the suit.

He pushed those thoughts out of his head, closed his eyes and concentrated on the sound of Harold's breath. He was going to revel in it as long as it lasted.

Harold woke up and he smiled when he saw John. The smile lit up his whole face and John felt his breath catch.

'Good morning, John,' Harold said as he laid back down and snuggled into John's chest.

'Morning. Got any plans for today?'

'I really should take Bear for a walk and I was contemplating making us breakfast, but other than that I don't have any plans. Do you have any plans?'

'Nope.'

They laid there for several minutes and as John breathed in Harold's scent he felt himself harden. He knew he would have to jerk off sooner or later, but he didn't want to let go Harold.

Harold lifted his head. 'Oh, dear. It would seem that you have a morning erection. Would you like me to take care of it for you?'

John's eyes widened. He had no idea that Harold would proposition him, but now that he had it was all John could think of. He pictured Harold fingers wrapped around his cock and then the image shifted to Harold's lips wrapped around the cock head.

All he could do was nod because he didn't trust himself to speak.

Harold started by lifting up John's shirt and licking a nipple until it was hard. John groaned and his back arched up.

Harold moved down and licked a trail down John's stomach. Once he reached John pajama bottoms he nuzzled John's cock through the fabric and John had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from coming; he was a grown man and there was no way in hell he was going to come like a horny teenager.

Harold moved his mouth from John's cock and looked up. 'Lift up your hips, please.'

John lifted up his hips and Harold pulled down John's pants. John hissed as cool air touched his hard cock. It was stiff and the deep red tip glistened with pre come. Harold lick the underside from root to tip. John gripped the quilt under him as Harold moved back down and sucked John's balls into his mouth.

'Oh, fuck. Keep doing that!' John exclaimed.

Harold released John's balls and grinned like the cat (or in this case the finch) that got the cream.

He moved up to the cock head and John groaned and his hips snapped up as Harold's pink tongue came out and swirled around the cock head.

He opened his mouth and his lips stretched as he wrapped them around the cock head. Slowly he bobbed his head up and down taking John deeper each time until his nose brushed the hair that surrounded the bottom of John cock.

He lifted his head until only half of John's cock was in his mouth and then began to suck.

John had pictured it, but being sucked off by Harold in real life was so much better. He felt the warm, wetness of Harold's mouth and saw Harold's dark head between his tanned thighs.

John felt his orgasm pool in his stomach and tried to warn Harold that he was going to come, but his brain and mouth didn't seem to be connected. Harold must have known because he back off until only the cock head was in his mouth and hummed. The vibration around his cock was enough to send John over the edge and he his eyes fluttered close as he came.

As he came down from his orgasm he opened his eyes just in time to see Harold wipe his mouth with the back of his hand. John groaned, it shouldn't have been a turn on, but damn if it was.

'Come here,' John managed to say as he reached for Harold.

Harold moved up John body and he kissed John's cheek. John moved his head and their lips met. Harold opened his mouth and John did the same. He could taste his come and he grabbed Harold's shoulders and kneaded them, the silk pajama was soft under his hands.

The air was filled with the sound of lips smacking against each other. It took John longer than it should have to realize that Harold'a hard cock was poking him in the thigh.

John broke the kiss. 'Want me to take care of you?'

Harold's brow furrowed and John smiled. A middle aged man shouldn't look like a week old puppy.

'Come again?'

'I meant do you want me to take care of your hard-on?'

'If you want. You don't have to.'

'I want,' John said even though the butterflies in his stomach were turning cartwheels. He had never had sex with another man, but it couldn't be that much different from having sex with a woman. It was all about making the other person feel good; he didn't want to brag, but that was something he was good at.

'Roll over on to your back, please,' John said.

Harold obliged and John decided what his next move would be. He spied a tube of skin cream sitting on the table by the bed and picked it up. As he squeezed the cool liquid onto his hand he came to a decision. He might not have had experience with gay sex, but he had lots of experience (more than he like to admit) in jerking himself off.

He reached over with one and pulled Harold's cock out of his pajama pants. It was longer and thicker than John's own, a thick vain ran along the side almost from root to tip and the tip was a deep red. John stroked it from root to tip.

'Do you like that?' He asked.

'A tighter grip, if you please.'

John smirked when he tightened his grip and Harold groaned.

He stroked up and down sometimes going slow and sometimes speeding up. Harold seemed to like both if his moans and groans were anything to go by. After several moments of stroking he twisted the head and Harold came, wetting John's hand.

'Was it good for you?' John asked as a joke as he released Harold soft cock.

'Oh yes. Thank you.'

'You're welcome. Can I ask you something?'

'Anything.'

'Where did you learn to suck cock like that? Did you google it?'

'I... Um... I received first hand experience in college.'

John could just picture a young Harold (all limbs, messy hair and glasses) learning to suck cock. He didn't know who taught him, but John would send him a fruit basket.

'I need to take a shower,' Harold said startling John out of his thoughts.

'Okay.'

'Excellent. After I shower, you can use it and I'll make breakfast.'

'Sounds good to me.'

John gently kissed Harold's lips and Harold got up. He stopped by his closet and pulled out some clothes. As much as John liked Harold in a suit, he hoped Harold would put on another soft, frayed t-shirt.

He laid back and revelled in the feeling of the quilt against his back and the pillow against his head. He could hear the shower going and thought about joining Harold, but he was too sated to move. His life was certainly looking up.

He heard the click of nails on the floor and turned his head. Bear was resting his head on the side of the bed.

John ruffled Bear's fur. 'Hey, boy. Looks like I'll be staying for awhile.

Bear's barked and felt the room as Harold came out of the bathroom. John just stared, Harold was indeed wearing a white t-shirt that made John want to touch it. 

'The bathroom is all yours. I left you a towel in the bathroom.'

John got up and made his way to Harold's bathroom. Once inside the room he noticed that there was a chair and a metal bar in Harold's large shower stall. 

He turned on the spray and stepped under it when the room began to fill with steam. He stood under the spray and groaned when the warm water hit his skin. He picked up a bar of soap and lathered up. Once he was done he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around himself. The towel was fluffy and soft.

Walking out of the bathroom he saw that Harold had laid John suit on the bed. John put on his suit and looked at himself in a mirror. He thought he looked different; perhaps his eyes didn't look as tired as usual and he couldn't decide if it was from a good night sleep or a good morning blow job. 

Walking out of the bedroom, Bear ran up to meet him. Bear's tail was wagging and his tongue hang out of his mouth.

John ruffled Bear's fur. 'Hey, let's go see what Harold made for breakfast.'

John and Bear walked into the kitchen and John was met by the smell and sound of cooking eggs.

'What's on the menu?' As he walked behind Harold and kissed his neck. His hands worked their way under Harold's shirt and touched warm skin. 

'I thought you might like some eggs and toast. How do you like your eggs?'

'Scrambled with lots of ketchup.'

John reluctantly moved away from Harold and sat down at the table. Harold sat down next to John and sat down a plate full of fluffy scrambled eggs and handed John a bottle of ketchup. They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence, the only sound was the clink of forks against the plates. Every once in a while their knees would brush. John was alone with his thoughts and something was eating at him.

'Harold? How long have you had feelings for me?'

Harold sat down his fork and adjusted his glasses. 'I can't be sure. It happened little by little.'

'But it's been awhile?'

'I would say so.'

'Why didn't you say anything before now?'

Harold scrubbed his face with the back of hand. 'I was afraid you wouldn't return my feelings and I couldn't stand to lose your friendship. I have already lost one good friend, I couldn't stand to lose another. May I ask you something?'

'Sure.'

'Why didn't you say anything?'

John shrugged. 'I've never been good at the whole 'talking about what I want' thing. That's how I lost Jessica.'

Harold reached across the table and took John's hands in his own. 'I'd change that if I could.'

'Thanks. So what you want to do today?'

'Spend the day with you as long as there are no numbers.'

Having Harold mention the numbers made John think about their working relationship.'Do you think the change in our relationship will affect our work?'

'I don't see why. Do you think it will?'

'Nope. When your my boss you're Finch, but here you're Harold.' John said and he lifted Harold's hand and kissed Harold's fingers.

'That's sounds very practical. After breakfast would you like to play chess?'

'Sure.'

After breakfast they did indeed play chess. John even sat in the same spot he had the night before. 

As John moved his pawn he couldn't shake the feeling that Harold was letting him win. That gave him an idea.

'What do I get if I win?'

Harold moved his knight and John saw an opening to take Harold's king. 'Anything you want, within reason of course.'

'How about a kiss?'

Harold grinned. 'That sounds like a wonderful reward.'

'Yeah. It's the reward where everybody wins.' John took Harold's king. 'Checkmate.'

John moved to the couch where Harold was sitting and brushed their lips together. He was about to deepen the kiss when he heard Bear stretching on the front door.

Harold broke the kiss. 'Oh, dear. It looks like Bear needs to go out. Would you like to join us?'

'Sure.'

Harold put away the chess set as John put on his coat and gloves. Harold put on his own coat and clipped Bear's leash to his collar and they made their way outside.

John hissed as cold air hit his face and he already longed for the warmth of Harold's house.

The city looked different covered in white snow. It made everything look clean and pure, but John knew that not even snow could cover some of the evil in the city. It was like a black ink stain that could never be removed.

The sidewalk was still covered with snow and John was worried that Harold might not be able to make his way through it, but somehow he managed. As they walked down the street John brushed his shoulder against Harold's. He was feeling better than he had in a long time.

His good mood faded however when they got near a pay phone and its shrill ring pieced the air.

'Oh, dear,' Harold said as he picked up the phone.

He listened for several moments and put the phone on the hook.

'It seems we have a new number,' Finch said. 

'Okay. Let's go,' John said as he got ready to go to work. There was always work to do.


	3. The Borderlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets shot and talks to an old friend

After The Machine called them, John and Harold went back to Harold's house. Harold walked into his bathroom and when he came out he was Finch dressed in a suit. John wore the same suit he had worn the day before, but it wasn't the first time that had happened.

If John had been worried that the change in their personal relationship would affect their working relationship he needed not be. Finch was his boss and it hadn't taken them long to find their latest number.

Now, John walked into the warehouse and took in his surroundings. The air was thick with dust and the holes in the ceiling let in shafts of yellow sunlight. There were inky black shadows along the walls and in corners that could hide enemies, but John knew that Bear would take care of them.

He walked across the warehouse and stopped in front of their latest number who was tied to a chair. The poor sap had run a foul of the Italian mob and was battered and bruised. John went behind the chair and cut the knots that held the man's hands. His fat wrists were already red and raw.

'Thank God!' Fred exclaimed as a bead of sweat rolled down the side of his thick, pasty neck.

John stood up and walked around the front of the chair when suddenly a shot rang out. John looked down and there was a hole in his coat. He opened his coat and his white dress shirt was stained by an ever growing pool of blood. That was the least of his concerns. He had to get the number to safety in case the shooter decided to shoot him.

The shooter stepped out of the shadows with a smug grin on his face. His teeth were as jarred as broken glass and his blond hair was greasy. 

The grin lasted just as long as it took Bear to jump up behind and grab the man'a arm between his jaws. The man's gun clattered to the ground and John shot him.

Bear ran up to John and whimpered.

'I'm okay,' John said to Bear even as he vision started going dark around the edges.

He covered the man with his body as they made their way out of the warehouse just in case there were other shooters.

Once they were outside, John finally felt the pain he expected from the gunshot. He concentrated on the white hot pain trying to stay aware. 

'Are you okay, Mr. Reese? I heard gunshots,' Finch said in John's ear.

'I've been shot. I need to get to a hospital.'

John saw Shaw walking towards him and even she looked worried. Things must have worst than John thought. 

'Shit,' Shaw said under her breath as she caught John as he fell against her.

The world went black as Bear's bark filled the air.

John opened his eyes and was surrounded by white He looked around and noticed that the white was snow and it was broken up by the green of pine trees. 

He had no idea where he was or how he got there, but with nothing else to do he started walking. The snow was up to his ankles and was fluffy. A cold wind blew against his face and he caught the scent of pine. He was wearing his winter coat and held it close to his body.

He walked for several minutes. Even though he was completely lost something was pulling at him, something was keeping him moving. 

As he walked he saw a dark shape on the horizon and walked towards it. 

As he got closer he saw that the shape was a cabin. It was small with a peak roof covered covered in snow. There was a stone chimney with puffs of smoke coming out of it. In front of the windows there were white flower boxes with familiar looking flowers in them. 

A man was standing in front of the cabin chopping wood with an ax. He was covered head to toe in furs, a thick bread covered his face and wild hair stuck out from his fur hat.

As the ax came down the crack of wood filled the air. The man didn't notice John and John yelled 'Hey!' to get his attention.

The man turned to John and John gasped.

'Dad?' John asked. His dad was just as he remembered him, expect for the beard, right down to the messy black hair and the blue eyes that he shared with his son.

'Johnny?' Greg said as he walked up to his son.

John held out his hand. He had no idea what to do when you were face to face with your dead father, but he thought he couldn't go wrong with a hand shake.

Greg took John's hand and pulled him into a hug. John closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of his father's cologne He had forgotten about that smell.

The stood in the snow hugging each other for a long time until John broke the hug. Greg touched his son's face.

'Oh, Johnny. You've grown.'

'Yeah. Am I dead?'

Greg touched his son's cheek. 'Not yet. The borderland is a place between the living and the dead.'

'Borderland? Is that what this place is called?'

'Yep. Come on, you're mom will want to see you too.'

They walked into the cabin and John caught a whiff of lilac. His mom always loved lilacs. The cabin was warm and a fire in a stone fire place lit up the room. On the walls hung watercolor paintings.

'Holly! Someone's here to see you!' Greg called out.

Holly stepped out from the kitchen and broke into a wide smile as her eyes fell upon John. She looked younger than the last time John had seen her. The last time John had seen his mother her body had wasted away from cancer. Now, her blond, curly hair was cut into a bob and her green eyes sparkled. Her yellow sundress moved with her as she ran up to her son and clasped him in a hug.

'Oh, John. Oh, my boy,' she kept repeating as she hugged him. John felt like a little boy who had woken up from a bad dream to be comforted by his mother.

'Mom,' John said. His voice breaking like glass.

Holly broke the hug and looked up at John. There were tears in her eyes. 'My boy. Come let me get you something to eat.'

He didn't feel hungry. He guessed people who may or may not be dead didn't get hungry, but he couldn't say no to his mom.

He followed his mom into to the kitchen and gasped. The kitchen was from the apartment he had grown up in. The walls were the same shade of pale blue, the floor was the same black and white checkerboard pattern and even the white, metal stove was the same. 

He sat down at a table (the same table he remembered doing his homework at) and his mom sat down a piece of blueberry pie. 

Once he took a bite of that sweet pie he was taken back to his childhood. His mom had won awards for her pie and blueberry had always been his favourite. 

'Do you like it, baby?' Holly asked as her fingers brushed against John's cheek.

'I love it. Thank you.'

'Anything for my baby.'

As John ate his parents sat down across from him and something occurred to him.

'Are you two ghosts?' he asked.

His dad shrugged. 'I think so.'

'Have you been watching me?'

This time it was his mom who answered. 'Sometimes. We're proud of the work that you do.'

'Very proud,' his dad added and John felt his cheeks heat up. He had never heard his dad say he was proud of him.

'Thanks.'

John was about about to add something when there was knock at the door. John's mom got up to answer the door and when she came back with Joss,John jumped up from his chair and almost ran over to Joss. She looked so alive it was hard to believe that she was dead. There was a big grin on her face.

'Is it really you?' John asked as he wrapped Joss in a hug.

'In the flesh,' she said as she hugged him back.

'How did you find me?'

'Something told me you'd be here,' Joss said as she broke the hug and they walked to the table.

She sat down next to him.

'So I'm guessing you're not dead yet?'

John shrugged.

'Good because I was serious when I said if you died I'd hate you forever,' Joss said jokingly.

'I'm sorry,' John said seriously and Joss's smile faded. 'I'm sorry I couldn't save you.'

'Hey, hey. There's nothing to be sorry about. You can't save everyone and besides, I knew the risks when I decided to take down HR.' 

'I know. I'm... I'm just sorry.'

Joss reached over and laid her hand on top of John's 'It's okay. If you want to make it up to me you can watch after my son. I don't want him here until he's old enough to have grand kids.'

'I promise. He's a good kid.'

Joss smiled. 'You don't have to tell me. Now I think I'll have a piece of that pie, if you don't mind.

'Not at all!' Holly said as she walked over to the counter and cut a slice of pie.

Later that day (John wasn't sure if there were days and nights in the borderland, but it sounded right) Joss and John were sitting on a wooden porch-swing that squeaked as it moved back and forth.

'So are you and Finch in a relationship yet?' Joss asked and John's eyes went wide.

'How did you know?'

'Please anybody with eyes could see that you liked each other. I'm just glad you finally got your heads out of the sand. You deserve to be happy.'

Part of John thought Joss was right, but a small part of him thought he didn't deserve to happy, not after all the people he had let down. He knew if he died now he would be leaving Finch behind and he couldn't stand the idea of that.

'You're leaving soon. Aren't you?' Joss asked.

'Yeah. I need to get back to the land of the living.'

Joss stood up and pulled John into yet another hug. He kissed her cheek. 'You take care of yourself and Finch. Give Bear extra love from me and try to keep Fusco and Shaw out of trouble. Okay?'

'I promise I will.' 

John went back inside as said his goodbyes to his parents and Joss and walked away from the cabin. He had no idea where to go, but he thought if his instincts could lead him to his parents than maybe they would lead him out of the borderland. 

The farther he walked the darker the sky began and the wind blew colder. John kept walking, but each step was harder than the last.

A cold wind hit him that chilled him to the bone, but he had come too far to turn back.

He trudged through the snow and the wind sting his eyes and blew against his face. The longer the walked the more he concentrated on just trying to put one foot in front of the other. Something deep down inside of him told him he was getting closer.

The sky opened and freezing rain fell down chilling him even more. His step faltered and he fell down into the snow. He closed his eyes and thought about giving up.

Suddenly he felt something tap on his forehead. He opened his eyes and was face to face with a small yellow bird with black wings. 

John tried to catch the bird, but it hopped just out of reach. Something within him told him he had to catch that bird. It took all his remaining strength, but he battled through the cold rain and snow and stood up. He took a few shaky steps and the bird hopped ahead of him. Again and again he would walk towards the bird and again and again it would hop just out of reach.

Suddenly the bird stopped and John looked ahead of him. In front of him there was a wall of what appeared to be golden light. 

John took a step forward and was surrounded by golden light. 

John gasped as his eyes flew open.He tried to sit up, but felt a hand on his chest. 

'John. John. It's okay. You have to relax,' a familiar voice said.

John laid back down as Harold stared down at him. As he settled down he saw that he was laying in a hospital bed in The Library. Next to him were various machines that beeped.

'What happened?' John asked. His voice was rough and weak. His body felt numb, but he thought that was from pain killers.

'You were shoot, but luckily Ms. Shaw was able to control the bleeding until she could get you to the hospital.'

John nodded and closed his eyes as he felt Harold's hand on his own. He must have fallen into a dreamless sleep because when he opened his eyes Harold was gone and Shaw was sitting in a chair by John's bed. She was grinning.

'What?' John asked. His was stronger.

'You and Finch, huh?'

'Me and Finch what?'

'Being coy doesn't suit you. You and Finch are a couple, huh?'

John just shrugged because he had never thought about him and Harold in those terms, couple sounded like a couple of high school kids.

'Oh come on. While I was driving you to hospital you kept asking for Harold and he hasn't left your bedside since you got here. Plus I once caught him kissing your cheek.'

'Fine. You're right.'

Shaw clasped her hands in front of her. 'I knew it. This is great!'

'I never thought you were sentimental.'

Shaw rolled her eyes. 'Please. Fusco owes me a chicken dinner now.'

Now it was John'a turn to roll his eyes. 'I'm so glad that my love life brings you so much enjoyment.'

'Everyone needs a hobby.'

Shaw got up to leave and John called after her, 'Enjoy your chicken.'

'Sure.'

John settled back and listened to the beeping of machines by his bed. The noise was strangely soothing because it reminded him that he was alive after being shot... again. 

He heard the familiar click of Bear's nails on the floor and opened his eyes.

'Hey,' John said as he saw Harold standing in the doorway.

'Hello,' Harold said as he sat down next to John's bed. John couldn't help but notice that Harold's suit was rumpled and there were dark circles under his eyes.

'Bear has been very worried about you,'

'Oh yeah? I wouldn't want to worry him. Shaw knows about us, by the way.'

'I know. Apparently, she and Detective Fusco had a wager on it and she won.'

'I heard. What else do they think they bet on?'

'I couldn't even begin to fathom that.'

John wanted to say something important. 'Thanks for not asking how I feel.'

'You're welcome. One thing that irritated me was people asking me that. Is there anything I can do for you?'

John thought about it and there was only one thing he wanted, something his mother used to do. 'Could you read to me?'

'Of course. What would you like me to read?'

'Whatever you want.' Harold could have read a phone oil and John would have been happy.

Harold walked over to a bookshelf and picked up a book. He sat back down in his chair and began to read.

'Buck did not read the newspapers...'

As Harold's voice filled the John laid back and closed his eyes. That night he dreamed of snow.

They were together. Little did he know that all too soon Samaritan would tear them apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The borderlands is a reference to Due South. The borderlands is where ghosts live and even though this isn't a Due South Fic I still wanted to play with that idea.
> 
> The book Finch reads is The Call of the Wild


	4. The Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John receives a ring and takes a chance.
> 
> Notes: Slight spoilers for Season Four

John and Harold walked into a room. Yellow sunlight streamed through a large window that over looked the city. The light filled room was clean white and a large bed covered in white bedding sat in the middle of the room.

As John moved his hands over Harold's suit he thought things couldn't be more perfect. 

John pulled Harold close and their lips met. Harold's glasses disappeared. Groans and moans filled the air as John loosened Harold's tie. Harold's hands came up and gripped John's hair. John pulled off Harold's tie and let it fall to the floor. He broke the kiss and began removing Harold's suit. He peeled off the suit jacket and Harold smirked. 

'Oh, dear. I appear to be hard,' Harold said.

'Oh yeah? I'll be more than happy to take care of it for you,' John said as he unbuttoned Harold's vest and shirt. Harold's skin was revelled as the garments hit the floor. Dark nipples stood out against dark chest hair.

John licked at a nipple and Harold moaned.

'Oh fuck, don't you dare stop.'

John moved over and licked the other nipple and Harold grabbed his hair and pulled. Harold let go of John hair.

John dropped to his knees and unbuttoned Harold's pants, pulling them down revealing pale thighs and dark red silk boxers. He pulled down the boxers and Harold's cock stood stiff. The root and balls were covered with dark hair.

John grabbed Harold's balls and kneaded them as his tongue licked Harold's cock head. 

Harold hissed. 'Oh fuck, don't stop.'

John leaned closer and sucked on the cock head. Harder and harder he sucked until Harold came in his mouth. The come tasted like nothing.

Harold moved to the bed and laid down he reached for John and John's heart sank as he realized he couldn't move. He tried to reach out to Harold, but the harder he tried the farther away Harold seemed.

The room and bed faded away... 

John startled awake. Instead of being in a white room he was in a dingy apartment. Outside his window he could hear the din of the city. Car horns honked and people yelled at each other.

He stared at the ceiling and his eyes followed the spiderweb of cracks in the water stained plaster. As he laid in bed he thought back to his dream. It wasn't the first time he had dreamed of Harold and it probably wouldn't be the last. Although, it was the first time he had had a sex dream. John had to admit it was better than the dreams of Harold dying, even if the ending had sucked.

As he thought about the sex dream his cock hardened and he decided to take care of himself. He reached for a tube of lube. Slicking up his hand he gripped his cock and began stroking it. He pictured Harold sucking him off. As he stroked he saw lips wrapped around his cock.

Faster and faster he stroked. As he felt his orgasm coming he tightened his grip and came. 

After he had come he closed his eyes, not wanting to face yet another day without Harold. He always thought he needed a purpose, but what he really needed was a computer genius billionaire. 

After Samaritan went online Harold went into hiding and John had hoped to hear something, anything, from him. As the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months he had given up hope of hearing anything. Maybe it was for the best, he just hoped that wherever Harold and Bear were that they were happy.

At least someone should be happy.

After several minutes he got out of bed and moved towards his bathroom. He turned on a light and studied himself in the mirror. There were dark bags under his eyes and there was days worth of stubble on his face. He wanted to say that his new look was to keep Samaritan from finding him, but he knew it wasn't.

He picked up a hooded sweatshirt from the floor and sniffed it. It didn't smell too bad and would be good enough. He put it on and a pair of jeans and decided to get something to eat.

Going through the motions he ate a handful full of cereal straight from the box. He swallowed down the stale cereal and was trying to decide what to do today (it was a choice between watching t.v. and watching t.v.) when he heard a knock at his door and a thin envelope was slid under the door.

He ran to the door and opened it, he look up and down the hallway, but it was empty. 

He went back into his apartment and stared at the envelope. As he picked it up his heart beat faster. God, he hoped it was from Harold.

He opened the envelope and shook the contents into his hand. There was a piece of paper, a bus ticket and a gold ring. He went over to his kitchen table and pushed a stack of papers off of it. The paper flattered to the dirty floor like wounded birds, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He sat the ticket and ring on the table. He picked up the ticket and read it carefully. The ticket was to a town in Iowa for later that day. He sat the ticket down and examined the ring.

He held it between his fingers turned it around and around. It looked like a simple wedding ring. He looked down at the paper and read.

To a good friend and a great husband.

He felt himself grin as he read the words that was similar to the one he had written inside Harold's holiday gift. It had to be a message from Harold and apparently he wanted John to come to Iowa as his husband. 

He put the ring on his ring finger and it fit. If Harold wanted John back in his life, he wasn't going to disappoint. Looking around his small, mostly empty apartment it wasn't like he was leaving such a great life behind.

Later that day, John sat inside a bus on his way to Iowa. Everything he owned was in a duffel bag in the compartment above his head. The ring was still on his finger.

An elderly woman sat next to him. She paid little attention to him and concentrated on her knitting. As the bus started to move she sat her knitting on her lap and looked over at John.

'Is this your first time on a bus, dear?'

'No. You?'

'Oh, no. I take a trip about once a year to visit the grandkids. Are you visiting someone special?'

'I am,' John said with a smile. Harold was more than special.

'That's nice I hope you enjoy you're trip,' the lady said as she went back to her knitting.

John settled back against his seat and stared out the window. He watched as the city gave way to flat fields.

The day passed on the bus and the closer John got to Iowa the more he longed to see Harold. He pictured himself wrapping Harold in a hug and holding him tight.

In the evening the setting sun turned the sky red, yellow and orange. The elderly lady (Susan) talked his ear off about her grandchild. John listened, but not very closely.

The next morning they arrived at the bus station and John stepped out with his duffle slung over his shoulder. 

Bear ran up to him and jumped up putting his paws up on John. John dropped his bag and bent down. He ruffled Bear's fur and Bear licked his face.

'I'm happy to see you too,' John said as he stood up and came face to face with Harold. He was wearing a flannel shirt and jeans, his formally brown hair had been dyed grey and his glasses had been replaced with contacts that made his eyes appear brown.

'Hello, John.' 

John didn't know what to say so he did what he did best and clasped Harold into a hug. Harold was warm and smelled like hay. Harold hugged him back and they stood like that for a long time. Bear ran around barking happily.

Once John broke the hug Harold looked at him and touched John's stubble covered cheek.

'You look awful.'

'Yeah, it's been a bad couple of months.'

'I'm sorry.'

'It wasn't your fault. We're together now,' John lifted his hand so Harold could see the ring on his finger. Harold lifted his own hand and a matching ring was on his ring finger.

'Are you ready to go home,' Harold asked.

John just grinned. That sounded great. 'Yeah. Let's go home.'

John followed Harold to an old, rusting, red pickup truck. He opened the door and it creaked. Bear jumped into the back seat. 

John settled into the passenger seat. Harold got in the driver seat and they took off. 

'So what made you pick Iowa?' John asked.

'I used to live on a farm in Lassiter, Iowa and I thought it would appropriate for a new start.'

John grinned. 'I never pegged for a farm boy.'

'I know. Sometimes it even amazes me.'

John saw Harold hand was on the seat between them so he laid his hand on top of Harold and was rewarded with a smile. 

'What do you do now?'

'I work at the local high school as an English teacher under the name Harold Whistler.'

'You want to shape young minds huh?'

'That is one way to look at it.'

'What do I do?'

'I though perhaps I'd leave that up to you, Mr. Whistler.'

'I took your last name when we got married? Don't you think that's a little old fashioned?'

Harold looked at him and smiled. 'Who ever said Whistler was may original surname?' 

Once they arrived at Harold's house, an old farm house with blue siding and a shingle roof they walked into the house.

Once inside Harold pushed John against the door and kissed him. Their teeth clashed and their tongues brushed against each other.

Once they broke the kiss Harold rested his head against John's chest. 'I've been waiting so long for this,' he said as he panted.

John breathed in the scent of hay and rubbed Harold's back. 'Same here, let's go to the bedroom and get our honeymoon underway.'

Harold grabbed John's hand and lead him up a flight of stairs to a hallway. He opened a door and they walked into a bedroom. The walls were deep green and the floor was covered with honey colored wood.

Harold let go of John's hand and John could only look as Harold unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the floor. As he reached to unbutton his jeans his cheeks turned red.

'Something wrong?' John asked.

'It's just... I hope I don't disappoint you.'

'That could never happen, here let me,' John said as he reached for Harold and unbuttoned his jeans. As he slid the jeans down Harold's pale thighs he noticed that Harold was wearing cotton boxers with hearts on them. John rubbed the soft cotton fabric between his fingers and pulled them down. Harold hissed as cool air hit his hard cock. 

John licked his lips and took in the sight of Harold's balls that were covered with dark hair. 

'Can I touch?' John asked.

'Of course, but could you take off your clothes first? I feel a little ridiculous.'

'You're the boss,' John said as he lifted his sweatshirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. As he reached to take off his jeans Harold reached for his hand.

'Let me,' Harold said.

John watched as Harold unbuttoned his jeans and felt Harold's fingertips brush his tan thighs as Harold pulled the jeans down.

'Come here,' Harold said as he licked his lips and reached for John. For just a moment John was reminded of his nightmare where he couldn't reach Harold, but the fear lasted only as long as it took to reach out and grabbed Harold.

John pulled Harold close and their bodies met. They were pressed together from chest to thigh and their lips met yet again. John'a hands slid over Harold's body and his skin was warm and soft. John lowered his head and kissed and licked Harold's shoulder. The skin was salty on his tongue.

John lifted his head and looked into Harold's brown eyes. 'We should move to the bed, but first could you take out those ridiculous contact lens?'

'Of course. Give me a moment.'

As Harold walked to the bathroom, John moved to the bed and laid down. He nuzzled a pillow and his nose filled with the scent of shampoo and laundry soap. As he laid there he gently stroked his cock, it wasn't enough to get him off, but it was pleasurable.

'Shall I leave?' Harold said.

John turned his head and looked at the man that stood in the doorway. He was naked and hard. John stopped stroking himself because he knew just looking at Harold would make him come.

'Come here.'

Harold walked to the bed and sat down next to John. 'Now what would you like?'

'We can start with you on top of me,' John said with a smirk.

Harold gently lowered himself onto John and he was warm and heavy. There cocks brushed together and that gave John an idea. He grabbed both cocks in his hand and stroked them.

'Wait. We need lubricant,' Harold said as he reached over and grabbed a tube. John released their cocks and Harold poured lube on his fingers.

John began stroking their cocks again.

'Oh, my. That feels good,' Harold said as he intertwined his fingers with John and the stroked their cocks together. 

John surged up and captured Harold's lips. The kiss was was wet and sloppy. 

Much too soon, John felt his orgasm pool in his stomach. Harold broke the kiss and bit down on John's shoulder. 

John's eyes fluttered close and he yelled as he came. He barely noticed when Harold came after him.

Harold collapsed against John and John just held him and kissed his shoulder.

He didn't know what the future held, or if Samaritan would find them, but it didn't really matter. They would get through it together.


	5. Retired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John retires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter to wrap everything up. I'd like to thank everyone who read this Fic and enjoyed it

John was standing outside the house he lived in with Harold. The sun was shining and warming his skin. Bear and his two puppies were running around chasing brown, falling leaves.

He picked up an ax and hefted in his hands. The wooden handle and sharp metal head were heavy. He really needed to cut some wood. His job as a police detective left him little time to do house work, but he enjoyed being self reliant.

A bear puppy named Snowball came up to John and John bent down to ruffle her soft white and brown fur.

'Good girl,' John said as her pink tongue came out and licked his fingers.

He stood up and watched as a little, red convertible pulled into the driveway and Shaw and Root stepped out. Bear and his puppies ran up to the two woman and were petted. 

John walked up to them. 'What are you doing here.'

Root smile as she rubbed Bear's head. 'It's nice to see you too, John. I have news for you and Harold.'

'News, huh? Somehow I doubt you tracked us down just to give us the baseball scores.'

'Ha. Ha. Very funny. It's about The Machine. Is Harold here?'

'Yeah. Come on.'

They walked into the house and were met by Harold.

'Hello, Ms. Grove and Ms. Shaw. What is this about?'

'Samaritan is dead and The Machine gave up her life to save us.'

Harold's eyes went wide as he lead them to the kitchen table.

That night, John and Harold were laying in bed. Harold was grading papers and John was watching a western. 

'You okay Harold?' John asked.

'About what?' Harold asked as he took off his glasses and looked over at John.

'About The Machine. I know it might not have been your kid, but you still created it.'

'I have thought about this and have to say that I feel saddened that I can no longer help numbers, but perhaps it's for the best.'

'Do you think the government will try to make a new one?' 

'I have no doubt. The genie is already out of the bottle, so to speak. Apparently Ms. Grove and Ms. Shaw will try their best to stop any attempt.

John moved his arm and held Harold close. John always thought he and Harold would die saving numbers, but it looked like they were retired and John was all right with that as long as he was with Harold.

**Author's Note:**

> The book that John gave Harold really does cost $110,000. Much like John I googled


End file.
